Longer than the usual have weathered the wear, each moment something to be selected and discarded. One foot in front of the other, watch life curdle and die before innocent eyes, what hope can be dashed that has not started inside? It’s where it always is.

Stuck in a mire. Guilt. Time and time again the message is lost against the bones they fall on, the need replaced with the desire. One person lies, the other smiles. The other again smiles ’till death. See it lurking? Writing through the thick shades.

Light a luxury, the future holds the lies of all kinds dear- unknown, realized, or otherwise. Familiar faces vomit ugly words as they continue to forget to listen. Apathy realized, there is nothing but a fleeting odor of rot. Hollow and lifeless. Empty and hopeless.

Like this:

Waiting for death is the only thing that seems like it makes any sense in a planet that is filled with nothing but ignorance and suffering. Sit and wait in an office chair, on the couch, in your car, when you are fucking, eating, or drinking. It’s always waiting, waiting, money, and death- all connected by hidden bloody sinews of human misery and misplaced trust.

Elevating the “enlightened ones” over ourselves, we foreshadow any hope, and shred confidence or spine- men and women that are not the betters but the exact opposite, they absorb the power from this planet while it rots, all the while being supported by the self anointed “regular folk,” those who carry out their duties but hope for change, but are too afraid to die for it, like me.

You’re all just as fucking stupid as you look. Clutch your little rectangle with the glowing screen. It’ll tell you who to vote for, who to hate, who to love, who to masturbate to, who to follow, who to disown. It will tell you what you need to think, what you need to do, how you need to live, what you need to be happy, what you need to eat, drink, respect, worship, trust, and betray.

Listen to the loudest voices, the ones with the most money, the best, most hopeful lies, and then react with surprise at betrayal. The common denominator is you. YOU are the moron. YOU are the victim. Hate celebrities, bankers, politicians, cops. Hate teachers, businesses, corporations, money. You’re still stupid, and those things still hold power. You’re still just…waiting for someone else to do something that fixes this planet, fixes YOUR little world. Our little world. MY. Little world.

We are waiting to die. Life here on this planet has become consumed with money and work- it is the core of all human endeavors on this planet. The concept of worth is in direct proportion to a specific metaphorical fraction that exists in a tangible sense. Death and money. Will death make money? If the answer is no, then more death is required. Did we make money from all this death? If the answer is no, well apologies all around! Sorry for the genocide.

Look at yourself. Do you hate you as much as I hate myself? Is the reason to consume pity, or is the reason because you’re slowly discovering what life as a human means; self-created, self-understood, but unaccepted in 2015-